


Mistletoe and Whitestone

by Justanothershortstory_sofar



Series: PressVerse [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas Prince netflix movie kinda, F/M, Fluff so much fluff, I wrote this when my brain was dying from finals, Royal Percy, Self-Indulgent, background keyleth and vax, goofy and kinda dumb, holiday fic, journalist vex, loosely veiled halmark movie, more than kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothershortstory_sofar/pseuds/Justanothershortstory_sofar
Summary: Vex'ahlia, a young and hopeful journalist, is assigned to report on the Crown Prince of Whitestone, she hoped she would get a good article.  She was most certainly not expecting to get involved with the royal family, and not the Crown Prince. When she uncovers a scandal about the most private layer of the royal family, she must navigate her desires for her career and her heart.Based off of the Netflix Christmas movie A Christmas Prince.  So expect this to be completely ridiculous and over the top, yet enjoyable (at least for me)  This is almost entirely fluff.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell I love bad Hallmark holiday movies? There's something so bad, yet so GOOD about them.

Vex Vessar, junior copy editor at Pinnacle Publishing, LLC, was being called into her boss’ office.  Just the look from Gianna Bexley was enough to make the normally cool under pressure Vex a little nervous.  She keeps a tight grip on her pencil, more for something to do than to actually write notes.

“Pull yourself together,” she says to herself, running her hands through her dark hair out of habit, lightly touching the blue feather she keeps behind her left ear.  “Are you a reporter or not?”

“Ms. Bexley?”  Vex keeps her head up, voice level.  She tries to exude confidence from every pore, even when she’s shaky inside.  “You wanted to see me?” Probably about fixing What’s His Dick’s sloppy writing again, honestly she questioned if he even knew basic grammar and punctuation every time she had to edit–  

“Vex, yes,”  Bexley interrupts Vex’s train of thought.  “Have a seat.”

“If this is about-”  She’s interrupted with a shush.

“Vex, I want you to go report on a story,”  Gianna looks over to Vex, giving her a once over.  “Visuals could be better, but this is what we’ve got.  What do you know about the Whitestone royal family?”

“Not much,”  Vex thinks to the European politics she knows.  Somehow, she doesn’t think the two years of high school French she took are applicable to this situation.  “Ah, they’re going through a regime change.” She shrugs.

“After the tragic death of the ruling King and foreseeable heir in a car crash a year ago, yes.”  Bexley tucks a loose lock of nutty brown hair behind her ear. “Because the heir was also killed, the throne is passing to the next in line: the playboy prince who’s been running through Europe for the past fourteen months.”

“Okay, so he’s coming home to take the throne?”  Vex takes a few notes. _See_ , she told herself, it was always good that I have a pencil. 

“Or will otherwise abdicate.”  Bexley returns to her computer.  “Look, I won’t say this is one-hundred percent going to happen.  But I need boots on the ground on the off chance that this will turn into bigger news.”

“And you want me to do this because I’m a good writer?”  Vex asks, fishing for a compliment.

“Sure.  I also have nobody else willing to cover this.”  Ouch. “Your flight leaves tomorrow morning.”

Vex walks out into the main copyedit floor of Pinnacle, feeling a little hopeful with a perky bounce in her step.  Keyleth’s lanky form hangs over the half-wall divider between their desks, overrun by the plants her hipster best friend since college grows on her desk.  

“Boss Lady fire you?”  Keyleth jokes.

“You wish.”  Vex packs up her laptop.  “I’m on a flight to Whitestone at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning.  I think I just got an actual article assignment? Keyleth dear, what is that smell?”

“Beans!”  Keyleth beams.  “I’m fermenting them.”  

“Lovely,”  Vex was far more happy about not being in the office after this new revelation.  Keyleth was the hippie type who brought her dog into work when she could, grew her own kale, and sometimes tried to ferment things.  After the Kombucha explosion in their shared dorm room a few years ago, Vex tried to keep her distance from fermentation, no matter how absolutely amazing the honeyed mead Keyleth made last Christmas was.

“Vex!” Gilmore pokes his head around in a cloud of better-scented air; lavender and sage today.  “That’s amazing. What are you doing?”

“Reporting on the prodigal prince returning home to claim the throne,”  Vex shrugs her charcoal grey wool coat on, tugging on it to evenly settle the heavy material.  “No biggie.”

“Prince Percival De Rolo of Whitestone?”  Keyleth asks, her fingers dancing on the screen of her smartphone.  “That prince of Whitestone?”

“Yeah, why?”  
“He’s super hot, no big deal.”  Keyleth shows Vex a picture on her phone.  A sharp-featured young man is emblazoned across the cover of a tabloid magazine, with the bright red title “ROYALS ABROAD: Prince Percival of Whitestone Spotted on Private Island in Majorca.”   He is noticeably shirtless in the photo, eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses and shaggy white hair. Behind him, a woman in an equally skimpy bikini laughs in the surf of Majorca. The whole image is absurd to Vex, looking like something more suitable for the cover of a romance novel.

“Not my type.”  Vex laughs.

“Vex.”  Gilmore cocks an eyebrow.  “Little white hair there? He’s everybody’s type.”  

“As if Vex would flirt with the subject of her article,” Keyleth takes back her phone, smiling coyly.  “She barely flirts with the guys I try and set her up with.”

“That’s because you never try and set me up with troubled, playboy royalty.”  Vex winks, tossing her bag over her shoulder. “If you got me a date with cheekbones over there, I might flirt.”

“Just you wait,”  Keyleth sticks out her tongue, calling to Vex as she walks away, “I’ll find you a prince, just you wait, Vex!”

 

If this ordeal provided nothing else, it gave her the rest of the afternoon off.  Vex took the train home, stopping at a little corner diner.

“Get fired already, Stubby?”  Her brother, with her almost exactly the same features except for an annoying two and a half inches of height he lorded over her, wipes off his hands on a dishrag.   He’s also got a horrendous sense of fashion, with mostly black band tees or diner polos embellished with an iron-on logo. “It’s only four, I thought you’d be working late fixing what’s his dick’s work for him.”

“Why does everyone ask if I got fired? No, got almost kinda promoted.”  Vex smiles as Vax pushes her usual across the counter- fries and a chocolate milkshake.  He’s owned the diner on paper for just over a year and a half, but it’s been his in everything but name for ages now.  “What’s-His-Dick is fixing his own work tonight, I’m going on assignment tomorrow morning.”

“That’s promising.”  Vax steals one of her fries over her grunt of protest.  “What’s the case, ace journalist?”

“Royal family.”  Vex takes a sip of her milkshake.  “In Whitestone.”

“Hold on,”  Vax pulls out his hair tie and redoes his man bun.  Vex snorts. “Like European country, Whitestone.”

“It’s a city-state,”  Vex flaunts the ten minutes of Wikipedia research she got in on her commute to the diner.  “But yes, Europe. The assignment goes through Christmas, and Winter’s Crest, and maybe New Years, which means I won’t be here.”

“That’s good, Stubby!  Especially considering I don’t think we’re banned from Whitestone.”  Vax teases.

“There’s always time for that.”  Vex deadpans. So far, their list of ‘Places we can never return to’ was fairly brief:  London, Channel Islands, and a good stretch of the French countryside.

Vax smacks her shoulder.  “This is it, right? Your big break?”

“I dunno,”  She pushes around her fries.  “I hope so. I only got it because everyone else was too busy to drop everything and go to Europe for the holidays.”

“Bet you’re really happy we don’t celebrate Christmas, huh?” Vax’s hand darts in for more of her fries.  She smacks his hand away, laughing.

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”  Vex drains the last of her milkshake.  “I’m going to go home, pack. When are you closing tonight?”

“I should be home... say eight?”  Vax calculates. “Don’t eat before I get home, I’ll make you going away food.”

“Sounds perfect.”  Vex starts to walk away.  

“I might own the place but you still gotta pay, Vex!”  Vax calls after her. “3.25!”

“Put it on my tab, Shitbird.”  Vex smiles, blowing her brother a kiss.  He laughs, and Vex walks home, feeling a good deal better than she had before.  Perhaps Vax was right, and this would be ‘it’, that journalistic breakthrough that would jump-start her career.  

 

The next day, after a seven-hour flight out of LaGuardia airport, Vex touched down in Whitestone International Airport.  Vex flew coach, didn’t sleep, and tried using her limited French on the way in with little success. Nonetheless, she was feeling the same giddiness she used to.  On her back was nearly a month of clothing shoved into the big yellow hiking pack she and Keyleth bought in a post-college high, hopeful of assignments that would be flinging them across the world, from war zones to tech conferences.

The two of them wound up not traveling as far as they had hoped, trading in field reporter dreams for a copyediting job at a barely-above tabloid magazine.  But now, in the airport of an actual foreign country she was doing a story on, Vex felt the call of the road again, the desire to never let her feet rest in one place for too long.  

Her good mood persists as she waits for a cab to take her to her hotel.  Looking around, it seems that a large crowd is bustling around the airport.  Her sharp eye catches sly notebooks and press passes tucked to the inner lining of blazers.  It seems she’d already found the gaggle of journalists looking for a single statement from one of the royal family.  

“Where’s the prince?”  Someone asks. “His flight should have been in half an hour ago.”

The crowd mutters and murmurs.

Whitestone, it turned out, was fucking freezing.  Vex burrows her face further into Vax’s ski parka, breathing in the unmistakable smell of her brother.  Even under a red beanie, her ears are numb. She couldn’t wipe the dumb smile from her face, though.

Vex’s excitement must have shown, as another journalist with a press pass approaches her.  

“First time covering the royals?”  He asks, casually sipping from a paper cup of coffee.

“First time covering anything,”  Vex smiles, her breath fogging out into the cold air.

“Ah,”  He nods, knowledgeable.  “Bit of advice- don’t expect to get anything from this.  Odds are he’ll be a no-show.”

A taxi pulls up to the curb and honks lightly at her.  

“Thanks for the tip,”  She begins to shrug off her backpack as someone bumps into her, pushing her to the side and sliding into the cab.  “Hey! That’s my cab, asshole.”

“Sorry,”  A refined accent that does not in the slightest match the rugged face apologizes half-heartedly.  A scruffy brown beard and sunglasses obscure most of the mysterious man’s face, and a black knit cap cover his hair, minus a few strands of bright white escaping at the front.  “I really need this cab.”

He slams the door shut, despite Vex’s flustered protests.  

“That fucker.”  She mutters as her cab speeds away, wiping her dripping nose on Vax’s sleeve.  “You saw that, right?”

The journalist, who almost certainly has something a bit stronger than just coffee in his cup shrugs.  “Welcome to Whitestone.”    


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of The Twelve Days of Ficmas! Feel free to leave me a comment and hit that kudos button if you liked this!

After settling the cab fiasco and getting her luggage to her hotel room, a freshened up Vex wipes sweaty palms on her dark wash jeans.  The press (she’s one of the press!) are seated in a large hall ornately decorated with crests of Whitestone and suits of ancient armor. A real, actual laminated press pass with her face and paper is around her neck.  A crystal chandelier illuminates the room, and another light shines on a temporary stage at the front of the room, where Prince Percival De Rolo the Third, Heir to the Throne of Whitestone, was slated to speak seven minutes ago.  She snaps a wide-eyed selfie and texts it to Vax. 

“I AM A MEMBER OF THE PRESS ;D!”

Her phone dings.

“i am happy for you but it is four in the morning vex”

Tape recorders, cell phones, cameras, and pens at the ready, the press grumble as they check their watches.  

“Twenty euros says he won’t show again,”  An irritated woman whispers to her neighbor.  

“I’m not taking that bet,”  Her cameraman retorts, “I don’t even think he’s in the country!”  

The press comes to order as a well-dressed woman taps the microphone.  

“Hello everyone.  We are so glad you made it out here this weekend.  Unfortunately,” She doesn’t even need to finish her sentence before reporters start to pack up their equipment.  A low grumble passes through the audience. “The Prince will not be making a statement today. I will take some questions.”   
The room explodes with noise, journalists standing and trying to get attention.  Vex raises her hand awkwardly. 

“Yes, the woman in the blue sweater?”

“Me?” Vex asks.  She nods. “Is the press conference going to be rescheduled?”

“No, it will not.”     
“Well then,” Vex sputters, “Can I arrange for an interview with the Prince?”

“No, he is not taking any private meetings at this time.  Next?”

Vex sits down.  

“Is this going to change the plans for the coronation?”  Another journalist shouts. “Is the Prince going to abdicate?”  

“No, absolutely not.”  

 

Nearly defeated, Vex follows the gaggle out of the palace.  With every passing moment, that journalist from earlier is seeming more and more right in his assessment of her assignment and in his coping mechanism- Vex could do with a good, stiff drink right about now.  Yes, a drink would be good, along with a call to her brother, let him know she would be missing the holidays with him for a stuck up, no good, chauvinistic, womanizing prince who doesn’t even bother to show up for his own press conferences.  She kicks a clump of snow off the curb outside. Think positive, Vex. You never celebrated these holidays when it was just you and Vax, just sat watching Netflix and eating pizza. 

At the very least, Whitestone was beautiful.  It had all the charm of a fairytale town, with almost none of the modern amenities like steady cell service or high-speed wifi.  

As Vex takes in the quaintness of the town and castle, she sees a door hanging ajar in the side of the castle.  An opportunity? 

_ Fortune favors the bold, Stubby _ .  She could imagine Vax whispering to her.  

Sure, she might not have gotten anything from the press conference.  But she certainly could get SOMETHING from a little good old-fashioned snooping around.  Lucky for her, snooping around (and slightly illegal things) was never a challenge for Vex and Vax.  Tragic childhood and all. Looking to her left and right, it seems nobody is paying attention to her as she slides into the hall quietly.  Vex always thought breaking into a castle would be harder than this. 

A long hallway stretches before her, decorated with oil paintings and sculptures.  She takes her smartphone from her pocket and snaps a couple of photos, before pausing in front of a glorious painting of a woman in a yellow dress at a writing desk.  

“Excuse me, miss.”  She jumps as a footman appears behind her, shoving her phone into her pocket.  “What exactly are you doing here?”

“I, ah,”  She starts to give an explanation but her words fail her.  

“Ah, I think I know.”  He smiles. “You’re the new American tutor for Princess Cassandra.”  

“Yes,”  The lie escapes Vex’s lips before she has a chance to think.  “Tutor, me, yes.”

“Very well.  I will take you to Madam Yor, she will get you started.”  He begins to walk down the hall. “Follow me, please.” 

Vex does, seemingly too deep in the lie to escape now.   Now deep in the heart of the castle, she walks along plush red carpet past more and more paintings, statues, flags, and weaponry.   After a long walk through the length of Castle Whitestone, she stops before a pair of double doors. Her guide knocks gently, and a soft voice beckons them in.  

“Madame Yor,”  he gives a slight bow.  “This is Miss Katherine Travers, the Princess’ new tutor from Minnesota.” 

“Miss Katherine,”  Madame Yor, a matronly woman wearing a navy pantsuit eyes her cautiously.  “I had thought your agency said you wouldn’t be available until January?”

“Yes,”  Vex says, filling in the blanks of the rapidly increasing lie she’s found herself in.  “That was the plan, but my last job ended early.”   
“So you decided to just come here,”   Madame Yor frowns. “Two weeks early. Without any notice.”   
“Yes?”

“Fine.”  She sighs.  “I dare say the Princess could use lessons again before the new year, it won’t do any harm to start two weeks early.  Mister Tate, if you would be so kind as to fetch Princess Cassandra?”

The footman peels away, leaving Vex alone with Madame Yor.  

“Miss Katherine, did you have a chance to look over the lesson plan for the Princess?  I sent it to your agency when we first let them know we needed a new tutor.”   
“I’m afraid that never made its way to me,”  Vex thinks quickly on her feet, one of her more admirable qualities.  

“Predictable.  American agencies have never done well with communication.  I will get you a paper copy.” She starts to make her way to the desk pressed up against the wall.  “The Princess can be… difficult at times. Hence us hiring a new tutor for her. But make no mistake, she is very bright, particularly in the maths and sciences.  Most of what you will be doing is preparing her for standardized tests, should she decide to apply to colleges in the next few months.”

Math and science.  Great. English would have been better, but Vex doesn’t think she’ll be here for very long.  

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Cassandra,”  Tate announces from the doorway. He is pushing an older teenage girl, clad in light wash ripped jeans and an oversized emerald green sweater, in a wheelchair, presumably Cassandra.  

“Princess Cassandra,”  Madame Yor smiles tensely.  “This is your new tutor, Miss Katherine.”   
“Hey there,”  Vex mirrors Madame Yor’s smile.  “Nice to meet you.”   
“That is not protocol, Miss Katherine.”  Cassandra cocks an eyebrow. “Although you are American, I should have expected as much.”

“Hm.”  Madame Yor tuts.  “Play nice, we aren’t going to replace a tutor for you so soon again.”  

Vex touches her throat, self-conscious.  She didn’t think she sounded THAT aggressively American.  She’d only been living in New York again for a few years and her voice was still tinged with a faint accent from living with her father.  Whitestone didn’t get many Americans, presumably. 

Cassandra’s face brightens.  “Percy!” She shouts. 

Vex jumps a little as a man brushes past her, from a previously unnoticed door behind her.  

“Good to see you, kiddo.”  He leans down giving her a hug.  “Now who is this?” 

He turns, and Vex gets her first good look at the elusive, white-haired prince.  His face doesn’t look like the majority of pictures she’s seen. Rather, it is almost completely obscured by a pale brown scruffy beard, one that is distinctly recognizable… 

“You…”  She mutters.  “You stole my cab.”   
“Pardon?”  The prince stares her down.  

“You stole my cab.”  Madame Yor looks perturbed as Vex crosses her arms, raising her chin.  She locks eyes with the asshole. “Today. At the airport this morning, you stole my cab to get away from the press. I waited for twenty minutes to get another.”

“Ah, maybe.”  He scratches his beard.  “Regardless. I am Percival Von Mussel Kowalski De Rolo the Third, Crown Prince of Whitestone.  And who, exactly, are you?”

“This is Miss Katherine Travers, my new tutor.”  Cassandra laughs a little. 

“Let's hope she handles mice better than the last one, eh?”  Percival leans in, stage whispering to his sister.

Vex ignores the statement.  

“Miss Katherine,”  Mister Tate, gods bless him, interjects.  “Do you have your luggage with you? We should get you settled.”  

“It’s currently at my hotel,”  She thinks for a moment. “If you don’t mind, I can go retrieve it.”   
And proceed to completely flee the country: article, job, career be damned.  Add another country to the list of places she and Vax couldn’t go to again.

“No worries,”  Madame Yor soothes, “We will send for your bags.  I’m impressed you found a hotel room with all the press in town.  Vultures, the lot of them. Mister Tate, would you show her her room?”  

“Wonderful.”  Vex thinks this to be anything but.  

 

Five minutes later, and Vex is in the nicest temporary lodgings she’s ever been in.  The bed, while narrow, has a finer sheet thread count than her pillow-topped mattress at home.  There’s an antique desk, matching armchairs, and a moderately-sized fireplace built into the wall.  Best of all, she was given the access code to the castle’s wifi, the fastest one in Whitestone, presumably.  

She uses this to call her editor.  This is not as helpful, as she only gets a voicemail.  Vex leaves a message. She scrolls through her contacts, settling on calling Vax.   He picks up on the first ring. 

“How’s it going, ace reporter?”  He sounds honestly excited for her now that it's a more normal time.  “Glad you’re ditching me for the holidays to get the scoop of a lifetime?”

“I don’t know about that,”  She hesitates, unsure on whether to tell him the truth or not.  “I’m inside the castle, Vax.” 

“You’re inside?  How’d you manage that?”

“I may or may not have snuck in.  Then got caught.” She whispers.    
“Please tell me you are not in need of bail money, Stubby. Or in some medieval dungeon.”

“As if, Shitbird. You taught me better than that.”  She smiles a little, flinging herself onto the bed. Damn, even the ceilings were nice, sculpted with elaborate crown molding.  “No, but the dungeon is not out of the question. I got mistaken for a new tutor from the States. And I may have met the royal family.  And the prince may have stolen my cab at the airport this morning, which I called his pompous ass out on.” 

“He’s a royal, I’m not sure you can call him an ass, Vex.”  Vax laughs. “Glad to hear you aren’t in a dungeon somewhere.  And it sounds like you are in a good position to get the inside scoop on these royals.  Do journalists still say scoop?”

“No, I don’t think so. So you don’t think I should abandon ship and leave?”  Vex kicks off her cherry-red converse, scrunching her toes in thick woolen socks.   

“I think you have a good moral compass, Stubby.  And I think you know when you are doing the right thing.  I’m not there and I’m also not a journalist. Do what feels right.”

Someone knocks at her door softly.  Presumably, her luggage. 

“I gotta go.  Talk to you later?”  

“Follow your heart, Stubby!”  Vax shouts at her before she hangs up.  

Follow your heart, what bullshit.  But he was right on one thing- for now, Vex needed to stay the course.  This could still be the story to make her career, but that would only happen if she stayed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow: Vex starts her tutoring sessions, and she has a chance encounter with the Prince...


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whereupon Vex begins tutoring sessions with Cassandra and has a few clashes with the upper gentry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update is a little earlier today because it might be later tomorrow. Enjoy Day Three of the Twelve Days of Ficmas!

 

For better or for worse, Vex didn’t sneak out the night before. As such, she wound up in one of the many rooms of the palace with Cassandra staring daggers at her. 

She had a few moments the night before to go over the lesson plan, but not enough to understand the high-level math Cassandra was learning, let alone be able to teach it. Hopefully, she could continue to fake knowledge on the topic while blaming what she didn’t know on how she didn’t have the lesson plan until last night.  

“Here’s my current test scores.”  Cassandra passes her a sheet of paper.  “Ninety-sixth percentile in Math and Science.”

Vex pulls out a chair to a squeak, not from the chair itself it seems, but from a little white mouse on the cushion.  It scampers across the red cloth cover of the seat, little feet pattering. Unfazed, Vex picks up the mouse.

“Where do you want this?”  She cocks an eyebrow. 

Cassandra nods to a glass bowl on the table.  

“Math and Science look good,”  Vex flips through the papers, dropping the mouse into the glass bowl.  “English needs work. Let’s get started,  _ Highness _ .” 

 

Vex didn’t know if it was good that her plan was working.  On the one hand, she now had inside contact with the royal family.  On the other, she was still pretty nervous about the idea of a dungeon.  Her editor had gotten back to her early in the morning, completely enthusiastic.  For once, she had sounded pleased with Vex instead of mildly to completely perturbed.  

Vex couldn’t help but think that this is what her career could be- if she stuck around.  

Cassandra stares out the window, absentmindedly playing with the pen in her hand.  Vex takes a look out into the courtyard and catches a glimpse of familiar white hair.  Inspiration takes her. 

“Fresh air?  You could do with a break.”  Vex hands Cassandra her coat and zips up Vax’s parka around herself once more.  

 

“Percy!”  Cassandra genuinely smiles when she sees her brother.  

“Good morning, Cass.”  His back faces them as he pulls a bow taught.  After a beat, he lets loose the arrow, barely hitting the target’s outer edge.  The prince turns around, looking a little surprised to see Vex still there. “And Miss Katherine.”

Vex stifles a laugh.  Cassandra laughs louder, smirking.  

“Out of practice, brother?” 

“I’d like to see you do better.”  He hands the bow to Cassandra. 

Even seated, Cassandra draws back the bow with years of practice, fletching of the arrow touching her cheek.  Her arrow hits the center, quivering. 

“I’d wager you could use less time soul searching and more time studying,”  Cass laughs. “Katherine, give it a try.” 

She passes the bow to Vex.  

“Have you shot a bow before?”  Cassandra asks coyly. 

“Once or twice.”  More often than that.  But that was Vex’s life, not Katherine’s.  There’s not a really great reason for a girl from Minnesota to know how to shoot a bow.  

“Here.”  Percival hands her an arrow.  “I’ll help you.”   
His hand lightly touches her, raising her arm.  Vex notches the arrow, pulling her arm back. His breath on the back of her neck reminds her of his physical presence.  Percival’s glove runs along her arm, adjusting her arm down barely. The hairs on the back of her arms stand alert and aware at every gentle brush of his hand.  

“You’re tense.”  He whispers. “Relax.  Take a deep breath, then release on the exhale.”

“I’m fine.”  She turns her head to him.  “You can move now, Highness.  I can handle it.”

He steps away, and Vex, without looking back to the target, fires the arrow.  She hears it hit the target. Cassandra laughs. 

“Let’s get back to essays, shall we?”  Vex suggests. “Thanks for the diversion.”

  
Her arrow is dead center, having split Cassandra’s arrow in half.  Percy pulls the arrow from the target, running it over in his hands.  Cautiously, he looks up to the study where Cassandra is working with Katherine.  

Damn. 

He replays the scene in his head over again.  She was good at this. There was a mystery to this Katherine, more to her than met the eye.  And with a toss of her dark braid, he felt his heart throb. 

 

“Katherine,”  Cassandra sets down her fountain pen.  “Do you want to come to cocktails this evening?  I have to go and it's annoying, just a bunch of stuck up gentry.” 

“Ah, okay?” Vex looks over Cassandra’s essay.  “This looks better. Why me?”

“Around six, in the parlor.”  Cassandra looks over Vex. “And because you fluster my brother.  And I love nothing more than making him flustered.”

“Understandable,”  Vex laughs. “I feel the same.  About my brother, that is. Not about yours.”

Cassandra starts to wheel herself away.  “It would seem the flustering is mutual, Miss Katherine. Don’t be late.”

 

Percy was trying so hard to be the perfect host.  He was in the midst of small talk with the prime minister when he was distracted by her again.  

Katherine walked in, in a green dress and deep red trainers.  She really didn’t care what they thought, did she? More than her clothing, she held herself as if she had already heard the worst things someone could say to her and gotten over them.  She looked like she could never be hurt, but she could still be kind. 

“Hello, dear.”  A sickly sweet voice crawls around him.  

“Lady Delilah,”  He turns, staring her down.  “I didn’t think you’d come. How  _ wonderful  _ that your plans have changed.”

“Mm,”  Delilah grins.  “So lovely. Now, who’s this over there, with the tennis shoes?”

“Cassandra’s new tutor.”     
“Always thought Cass was too old for a tutor.”  

 

“How are you liking cocktails?”  Cassandra asks Vex. 

“Very nice.”  Vex smiles. It was, in fact, nicer than any party she’d been to outside of her father’s old house.  “I hope you don’t mind that I’m sticking with you, I don’t know anyone else.”

“Nonsense, I invited you.  Let’s gossip.” Cassandra leads her to a side room.  “That’s all they do at these things anyway, and I’d bet you’re very interested in what I know.”

Vex starts to take closer mental notes.  

“So.  Over there is Lady Delilah.”  Cassandra says, knowledgeable.  “She and my brother had a brief thing that ended when she sold the whole story to a tabloid.”

Vex’s eyes widen a little.  Lady Delilah, drink in hand, was certainly acting like she was still having an affair with the prince.  Her hand casually pats his bicep. Who the fuck casually pats a bicep? 

“And in corner two,”  Cassandra gestures with her head, “Is Cousin Sylas.  He’s second in line for the throne.”

“You aren’t second in line?”  Vex asks. 

“No. Well,”  Cassandra thinks through her next few words.  “It’s complex. Vesper, our sister, was the only child for a while.  So long that Father started to write drafts to abolish the law that the crown passes through male bloodlines only.  But then Percy came along, and that went onto the back burner.”

“But wasn’t Princess Vesper still the next in line?  At least, that’s what I thought.”

“My brother has never been suited for ruling a country.”  Cassandra sighs. “He’ll do his duty, but Vesper was the one who was proper for the job.  Somewhere, Father has the bill, or maybe not. Regardless, Percy’s older anyway.”

“Did you ever think you’d be queen?”  Vex asks.

“Maybe.”  Cassandra sips her drink.  “Maybe. But I never thought I’d be doing this all on my own, honestly.  Vesper’s dead, Percy was gone, and Cousin Sylas is anything but helpful.”  

“For the record,”  Vex smiles, “I think you’d make a great queen.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and hit that Kudos button if you liked this! If you so choose, you can find me on Tumblr (for the time being) @zoetriestobecoolbutnope


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More cocktails, more fluff.

The tune of a long unheard song rings through the hallways of Castle Whitestone.  It's only a few more days until the Christmas ball and with it, the coronation of Percival.  Vex follows the music to an offset room, with a baby grand piano and none other than the Crown Prince playing and tinkering away.   She takes out her cell phone and starts to film. 

Percival plays a few bars, then grumbles and tweaks something inside the piano.  Vex leans against the sliding door to watch, only to have it slide away from her with a rattle.  To her dismay, he looks up. 

“Sorry,”  She thrusts the phone into her pocket before he can see.  

“No worries.”  He smiles, pulling his round glasses from the bridge of his nose and giving them a cursory wipe with the cuff of his sleeve.  “Just fixing the piano.”

“That’s an impressive talent.”

“I was an impatient child,”  He laughs, wiping the side of his face.  A streak of grease (where did that come from?) runs along his cheekbone.  “Mostly self-taught, in both playing and fixing.”

“It sounds lovely.”  Vex walks in. “Or, the same four measures sound great.”

“I suppose it is a little repetitive.” 

There’s a strange silence between the two of them.  

“I should go–” Vex says, starting to back away as Percival speaks,

“It was nice–”

“Sorry,”  Vex says,

“No, my fault.”  He coughs. The both of them pause again, uncertain as to who will speak first.  “It was really nice seeing you at cocktails yesterday, with Cassandra.”

“Yes, she’s wonderful.”  Vex scratches the back of her head.  “And the party was great!”

“I was wondering,”  Percy hesitates. “Would you like to come to another cocktail party, tonight?  There’s a little gift exchange, but you needn’t get anything.”

“Sure,”  Vex smiles.  The last party went so well, with so much information for her article.  And she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she liked seeing him there too. “I’ll be there.  And you’ll be there. So I’ll see you there!”

Vex makes her exit.  Fuck, what was it about him that made her flustered?  You’ll be there? What was that? 

“Pull yourself together, Vex.”  She muttered. “You’re a writer, fucking hell.” 

 

She does indeed see Percival at his party, in a well-fitting suit and grey dress shirt that way outclasses the other party dress she brought.  Or, the only other party dress she owns. Vex fingers the hem of the red dress she got on sale at Target over two years ago. 

She was not well put together enough to pull this off.  Vex only brought two pairs of shoes- hiking boots for snow, and converse for everything else.  

“Miss Katherine,”  Percival approaches her, drink in hand.  “You look lovely.”

“Thank you.”  She curtsies, fumbling a little.  “You look wonderful as well.” 

“You must be the tutor I’ve heard so much about!”  Lady Delilah worms her way over to Percival, draping her head onto his chest.  “Lady Delilah. A pleasure.”   
Her voice made it sound like anything but a pleasure.  

“Percival, would you be a dear and put this up on the tree?”  She hands him a little blue box. “I had it made just for tonight.”

“Certainly.”  He opens it nonchalantly, plucking a silver heart-shaped ornament from the box, and setting it on one of the lower branches of the tree.  The branch begins to bend ever-closer to the ground with the weight of the ornament. 

“So, Miss Katherine,”  Lady Delilah takes a sip of dark wine.  “You must tell me about Minnesota. It sounds rather… quaint, from what I’ve heard.”

“Ah!”  Cassandra, with amazing timing, exclaims, looking up from a box of ornaments on her lap.  “Here it is, Percy.”

She pulls a large wooden acorn from the box, hanging it as high as she can reach.  The polished dark wood glistens, reflecting the light of the crackling fireplace. 

“That’s the ornament Papa had made for this year,”  Cassandra smiles sadly, “I found it a few months ago, in a broom closet.”

“He was not fantastic at hiding things,”  Percival laughs. “But he had some wonderful traditions.”

From his jacket pocket, Percival produces a shining golden ornament of holly berries and mistletoe bound together.  

“Handmade gifts are something wonderful.”  Cassandra sighs. “Miss Katherine, how do you celebrate the holidays?”

“Oh!”  Vex is startled back to reality.  “Well, my mother died when I was young, and my father…”  She trails off, suddenly aware of the many nobles are watching her intently.  “His business kept him traveling most of the time. So it was just me and my brother most holidays.  We made our own traditions, took the time to remember our mother, and eat absurd amounts of gingerbread cookies.”

“To gingerbread,”  Cassandra raises her glass.  The room follows in kind, including a sour-faced Lady Delilah and a pensive Percival.  

“To traditions.”  Vex takes a good, long sip of her drink.  

 

“I have a proposition,”  Cassandra says the next morning.  “We blow off lessons for today, and bake gingerbread.”

“And why would I agree to that?”  Vex asks, setting down her laptop.  “We have to get started before nine.”

“Because I know your secret,”  She smirks. “Vex’ahlia Vessar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter today, part 5 (tomorrow!) will be longer. As for the cliffhanger... that I won't apologize for! Thank you so much for reading and leaving likes and kudos! If you want to find more of my work, you can check me out on Tumblr @zoetriestobecoolbutnope (for now, until Tumblr burns to the ground.) 
> 
> XOXO   
> Just


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squishy little Christmas Festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't leave you hanging, could I? (Not that this is really a cliffhanger, let's be real.)

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Vex shakes her head, convinced she’s misheard something.  

“I know you aren’t from Minnesota,”  Cassandra adds. “You also aren’t a tutor, at all.  Don’t worry, I don’t plan on telling anyone.”

“How did you figure it out?”  Vex whispers, heart beating at a million miles an hour.  

“Your laptop.  You enter your password without hiding the keyboard.”  Cassandra smiles impishly. “Wasn’t hard for me to do some snooping while you were in the loo.  It's comforting, really, to find out your from a… interesting family.”   
“Why aren’t you going to tell anyone?” Vex takes a deep breath.    
“We can start by making gingerbread?”  Cassandra shrugs. “I don’t particularly want to be learning today, and I don’t think you really want to be teaching.”

“And the article?”

“I just want you to tell the truth.”  Cassandra grows serious. “My brother is not, or almost never, portrayed accurately by the papers, as I hope you’ve gathered by this point.  I want you to write him how he really is. Now, gingerbread.” 

 

Percy is never not aware of the countdown in place.  Their brief mourning period for Father and Vesper was about to expire, where he needed to abstain or take the throne.  Maybe that was part of the reason he was rummaging through every drawer in his father’s writing desk, looking for the ordinance that would allow Vesper to rule.  

Some good it would do now.  

It felt like shit on his tongue, the idea that he was responsible for a country.  It felt worse that he felt that way in the first place. Vesper certainly never felt like this.  She was older, yes, but more mature even from a younger age. She was regal and dignified and sharp as a tack and she would have never needed to wander through Europe to find herself.  She had ten years before him to prepare to be queen and it seems like he would never catch up. 

Sometimes, he would wake in the morning and forget that she was gone.  And as the realization came crashing back to him he felt as though he was going to join her in death.  He wouldn’t do that, of course. There was a country of people depending on him, not fucking Cousin Sylas.  There was Cassandra, almost an adult but still not ready to be on her own. To an extent, there was Katherine, ever present in his mind... 

“Percy?”  Delilah struts into the room without a knock.  “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“No,”  Percy sets down the sheaf of papers he was still absentmindedly holding onto.  

“I wanted to see you before the festival today,”  Delilah sits on a sofa, smoothing her oatmeal skirt and crossing her legs at the ankle, demure.  “I know it can’t be easy, making the remarks your father used to make.”

“It’s fine.”  Percy straightens more papers on the desk.  “I’m preparing them now. Did you want something else from me?”   
“Well, you’re no fun anymore.”  Her voice curls around him. Delilah’s hands press against his shoulders, manicured nails digging into the knots in his back.  

“Was I ever fun to you, Delilah?”  He stands, pushing her aside. 

“I think,”  She pauses, “It would be useful for you to have someone else by your side when you make your speech.  And later, when you get coronated and start to rule. Someone who knows you inside and out, Percival.” 

“Let me guess.”  Percy leans in. “You, perhaps?”

“You could use a Queen.”  Her lips smile wide, crimson parting to show white teeth.  “Someone with grace and poise, with… chemistry. I won’t stop fighting for us.”

“I don’t want you,”  He wanders over to the bay window, watching the snowfall on Whitestone.  “You can see yourself out now. Thanks for stopping by.” 

Delilah begins to leave in a huff.     
“You’ll regret this, Percival.”  Her eyes narrow. “I’ll make you regret this.”  

 

The snow has stopped falling by the time the Winter Festival has begun.  Cassandra, armed with new knowledge, has evaded almost every class this morning and dragged Vex out to the festival.  True to her promise, she hasn’t told anyone yet, a fact Vex is very grateful for. 

It was also nice to be called by her actual name again, more than just from her brother and her boss (who had called her a few days after Vex left the message, encouraging her to stay the course and dig up more dirt.  Vex really wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign.) 

For a little while, Vex wandered the festival with Cassandra.  The longer she stayed, the fonder she began to feel towards her.  Cass was a crazy strong-willed girl, mischievous in her intelligence.  Honestly, she reminded Vex of her brother sometimes. 

Now, the two of them stood adjacent to a crowd of tourists and journalists.  Vex had a hard flashback to her first day in Whitestone, loaded with tension and impatient, hungry, reporters.  

And, like that first day, it seemed like Percival would be a no-show again.  Cass bites at her cuticle as they wait at an empty stage. 

“Forget this.”  She begins to wheel away.  “I’ll find him myself. Come with me.”  

She leads Vex backstage, down tightly woven alleys and old stone houses.  

“Fucking hell,”  Cass swears. Vex looks at her with reproach.  “You aren’t my teacher anymore. He always ends up here, whenever Father did one of these.”  

Cassandra gestures to the sign above the door, declaring the building to be an Orphanage.  From along the side of the building, Vex hears earth-shaking laughter. 

Percival, the future King, is in a snowball fight with a group of scrawny young boys, being absolutely pelted.  

“Well?”  Cassandra asks.  “You going to do your job or what?  This is my brother. Go… report or something.”

Vex turns on her phone and starts to film.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's Part Five! Thanks for sticking around thus far, and for all the kudos and comments! If you are so inclined, you can find me on Tumblr @zoetriestobecoolbutnope.


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today: Winter mischief, plus horses, plus something dangerous!

“What’s your desired mischief for today?”  Vex has grown into a rhythm with Cassandra over the past few days:  Cass would suggest something to do, ranging from mildly playful to extremely dubious, Vex would go along, and at the end, she was given some new information.  She knew a few more things about Percival now, how he almost always used the same aftershave as his father, he liked to dunk sugar cookies into black coffee, and after a few drinks, was prone to sing (and swear a bit) in a rich tenor.  He was becoming a person to Vex, more than the subject of an article, or ruler of a nation, or tabloid playboy. More than just the asshole who stole her cab. 

“Figured I’d let you pick for once.”  Cassandra stretches in her chair. “Also, I’m a little out of ideas.  So, your turn. No writing exercises, I don’t care how fun you say they are.”

“I might have an idea or two.”  

She most certainly did.  Three things had occurred to Vex that morning:

  1. Whitestone’s grounds had some very beautiful, picturesque even, hills.
  2. These hills were at a pretty great angle for speed, and 
  3. They were also covered in about one to two feet of snow from another storm last night.  



“Are you sure about this, Vex?”  Cassandra’s gloved hands gripped the handlebars on her chair.  

“Kinda.”  Vex plops down the curved toboggan sled she dug out of the attic, with help from Mr. Tate.  “Mostly. Don’t you want to try?”

“Okay.”  Cassandra smiles.  “I call front.” 

Vex helps her down onto the front half of the toboggan, sitting down herself and grabbing the reins.  

“Ready?”  Vex kicks off, and the two skitter down the hill.  The wind whips at her face, Cassandra’s brown hair with it.  She laughs, letting her voice carry. 

Cassandra didn’t think this was very dignified, but when did she ever give a shit about dignity.  

With a thump, the toboggan stops suddenly having smacked headfirst into a large stone jutting out of the snow.  The pair flew over the rock, hurtling into the snow. 

“Cassandra?”  Vex picks herself up, wiping the snow from her face.  She rubs at her shoulder, which had taken the brunt of her fall.  She’d likely have a bruise there in the next few days. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.”  Cassandra turns over, taking a deep breath as she shakes the snow from her hair.  She laughs. “Better, even.”

Vex starts to stand, stomping to shake more snow from her pants and coat.  Suddenly, cold snow slides down her back, melting into a swampy mess against her warm body.  She yelps, just a little, turning to see what caused it. 

Fucking Percival De Rolo is behind her.  That’s why. 

He hops off of a chestnut colored horse, brushing more snow from his gloves.  

“You did not.”  Vex narrows her eyes.  

“Maybe I did.”  He winks. Thankfully, the cool-guy sly smirk on his face is removed by a well-thrown snowball from Cassandra, along with his glasses.  White powdery snow covers his face, and he wipes the melting water from his eyes. “Is it a war you want? Don’t think I’ll take it easy on you!”

“War!”  Cassandra cries, pulling up the toboggan for a quick cover.  

Vex shrieks, darting behind the sled with Cassandra, letting loose snowballs as fast as her hands will let her.   

After a few moments, there is nothing but silence from the other side.  

“I’ll go and attack head-on,” Vex whispers, moving her hands in a complex series of signals.  “You wait here for the ambush.” 

Vex crouches around slowly, keeping a sharp eye out for Percival.  Just when she worries he’s left them, she catches sight of his coat in the snow behind his horse.  

Dragging her feet to avoid the crunch of the snow, she slides up behind him, hurling another snowball.  

He shouts, turning around and running towards Vex.  She darts past him. 

Her foot falls onto a hidden patch of ice, and she begins to slip as her hand grasps Percival’s coat, taking him with her.  

The hard ground knocks the wind out of her, only barely cushioned by the snow.  Vex groans, starting to get up, only to bump into the disheveled crown prince almost on top of her.  His head blocks out the sun, illuminating his white hair almost to the point of glowing. She hadn’t realized how blue his eyes were until they were less than a foot away from her, behind circular wire-rimmed glasses.

“Are you alright?”  He grins. Percy’s hand brushes some of the snow from her dark braid, tucking a lock of loose hair behind her ear.   His breath fogs the air ever so lightly, coming from his parted lips.

“Yeah, I think so.”  Her hand is still on the lapel of his coat, she realizes.  She lets go, somewhat awkwardly, pretending to brush some snow away.  Her heart is pounding in her ears, her whole body pulsates and throbs as time seems to take forever.  How long had she been locked in this half-embrace with him? Thirty seconds, a minute? Had it been even longer?  Vex couldn’t tell. 

More wet snow splashes across both of them, courtesy of Cassandra.   Vex takes a fistful of snow and throws it in Percy’s face to diffuse the situation.  

Good thing for Cassandra, Vex thinks, having taken a bath later in the afternoon.  The hot water brought with it a sense of clarity she was thankful for and soothed the subtle ache in her shoulder.  She wasn’t sure what would have happened if it had just been the two of them… She shakes the notion off. Wherever that train of thought was going, it was the opposite way she wanted it to go.  

Besides, even if he thought something similar about her, it wasn’t Vex Vessar he knew, it was fucking Katherine Travers, his sister’s tutor.  If all went according to plan, he would never know Vex Vessar, and for the better. 

There was a reason most dates Keyleth set her up with ended with them running miles from her.  At least, that’s what the nice ones always did. 

Absentmindedly, she saw Percy in the courtyard, leading his chestnut horse.  Of course, it was brown, a white horse would be too far on the nose. 

“Where’s he going?”  she mutters. The sun was dipping lower in the sky.  “I should- I really shouldn’t follow him… Fuck.” 

Vex thrusts her phone into the pocket of her jeans, laced up her nearly-dry but still damp hiking boots, and pulled Vax’s parka on over her sweater.  

She supposes that’s what she’s doing.  Following a prince into the woods, like some weird reverse Cinderella, except she’s still Cinderella in this metaphor- too complex and romantic, drop it.  

 

Vex arrives at the courtyard just as Percy’s horse carries him out into the woods.  Too fast for foot travel, what next? There’s an unattended horse, tack. 

Vex hasn’t ridden a horse in a good ten years, a side effect from being a young lady of “good breeding” or however her father had called it so long ago.  Whatever, it’s got to be like riding a bike, right? She still recognizes most of the equipment, although she can’t find a helmet. The horse, a gentle looking mare, should serve her purposes just fine.  She saddles up to the best of her abilities, then sets out on the trail. 

Percy had stuck to the path for a little while but split off when just out of sight of the castle into the woods proper.  She picks out his trail easily, though she didn’t think he was trying to hide. (Thanks, eight years of girl scouts.) The sun begins to set, painting the sky with reds and pinks and purples.  

About thirty minutes into a so-far uneventful ride, her horse spooks.  Vex falls as the horse bolts, throwing her into a snowbank and making a break for home, presumably.  

“Fuck.”  She rubs her sore back, aching more from the two times she’s hit frozen over dirt today.  Vex checks her phone. No service. “Double fuck.” 

This is what came of coming back to Europe, she thinks bitterly, fucking stupid princes and dumb horses and cell service that works like a plot device in a horror film– 

Vex is interrupted by a low growl.  

Slowly, she turns.  And comes face to face with a wolf.  

For the second time today, her heart pounds.  She slowly backs away, keeping her eyes on the wolf.  She doesn’t stare it down, she’s pretty sure her Girl Scout troop leader said NOT to do that with wolves. 

“Triple fuck.”  She whispers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And cliffhanger number two! Don't worry, Part Seven goes up tomorrow! Be sure to hit that kudos button or leave a comment if you liked this chapter. 
> 
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr)


	7. Part Seven

Once, when Vex and Vax still lived in the big house in Manchester with Syldor, Vax had fallen in with some trouble-seeking boys.  All of them teenagers from respectable families, all of them big douches. Vax got really good at shoplifting that year, with boys who took not because they needed it but because of some unresolved issue, a need for love or to be noticed.  Not that he was incapable of lifting a thing or two beforehand when they still lived in the States with their mother. They called themselves the Clasp or something like that. (It was Vax’s goth phase, or the beginning of the state he’s in that hasn’t seemed to end quite yet.)  

The Clasp got caught with their hands in a jewelry case- all except for Vax, who’d run at the first sound of sirens.  When their wealthy fathers bailed them out, they came for Vax first, blaming him for bolting, blaming him for tripping the silent alarms.  He owed them, or something. 

“I’ll handle it.”  Vex had told him. She stole from the house that night, crystal goblets and silverware and a broach from her stepmother.  All things that wouldn’t get noticed. Vex sold it all, and gave cash to the boys within two days, with one promise. “You never touch my brother again.”

That’s what family does.  

Vex doesn’t know why she’s thinking of that night.  Maybe she sees something scared in the wolf before her, like she was.  Maybe it was her life flashing before her eyes. 

Keys, she thinks.  Her keys had a ‘travel-approved self-defense tool’ or as Vax called it “the anti-mugging stick” or “not as good as a knife but not going to make TSA arrest you  **again** .” 

She eases them out of her pocket, feeling a little better with something reasonably sharp in her hand.  

“Easy,”  She says in a level tone, to both herself and the wolf.  “Don’t make me use this. You want to go, we can fucking go, motherfucker.”

Vex had called the cops, that night Vax got away.  She gave him a head start. She didn’t hesitate to call the police again after they tried to get Vax to steal for them again.   Rightly, they chose to cut Vax out of their group rather than risk their fortunes and futures. Her father chose to cut Vex and Vax out rather than risk his fortune and future.

That’s what family does, apparently.  

A shot rips through the tense semi-silence between the wolf and Vex.  

“Get out of here!”  Percy shouts, firing another shot from a small hand pistol.  The wolf bolts and Vex starts to stand from her crouch. She brushes snow from her pants, pocketing the keys.  

“You know I had it under control, right?”  She says, feeling her heart now start to skip a beat.  With a wolf, she’s fine, cool, collected. But with this asshole...

“Of course.”  Percy cocks an eyebrow.  “Need a ride?”

“Sure.” Vex clears her throat.   

He gives her a boost onto the horse before climbing back on himself, his smell enveloping her like a crackling fire. 

“So, you walked this far?”  Percy breaks the silence. 

“Had a horse, which bolted with the wolf.”  Vex bites her lip. 

“Into the forest, away from the path?” 

“Yes.”  Vex needs to change the topic.  “Where are we going? This isn’t the direction of the castle.”

“There’s a cabin up ahead.”  He clicks to the horse, encouraging it to go a little faster.  “If you had a castle horse, it’s likely there.”

“And?  Feels like there’s an and to that sentence.”  Vex fake gasps. “Why, your highness, are you taking me to your MURDER CABIN in the woods?!” 

He laughs, low and long.  

“No,” Percy answers. “It’s not a murder cabin.  It was my father’s, briefly.” 

The horse comes to a stop at the top of a hill, where there is indeed a cabin, and Vex’s horse from earlier.  

“Now I come here, build, think.”  He hops off the horse, giving Vex a hand down.  She keeps hold of his hand a bit longer than needed.  “And I don’t know about you but I could use a drink.”

“Sounds great.”  Vex gives a dirty look to the horse she’d used, currently chewing on some hay piled outside.  

 

Percy’s cabin was most decidedly not a murder death cabin.  Percy started a fire in the fireplace and lit a few candles, giving the dark one-room a soft warm glow.  

Vex pulls her arms out of Vax’s ski parka, hanging it on a hook by the door.  It starts to drip melting snow onto the hardwood floors. She undoes the laces of her hiking boots, kicking them off then neatly placing them by the door.  In brown wool socks, she quietly walks into the center of the cabin. The floor creaks, just a little, under her feet. 

It’s cheerfully adorned, with picture-perfect windows framed with cotton curtains.  A plush leather sofa sits before the crackling fireplace. To the left, a large wooden desk stands cluttered with various scraps of paper and pens, before an equally sized picture window.  The sun has officially set now, and pinpricks of stars begin to shine along with the nearly-full moon. The whole place smells smokey and woodsy, almost like the ski cabins her father would dump her and Vax for most of their winter breaks from school.  They didn’t want to be together, regardless. 

“Here,”  Percy hands her a copper mug full of a warm drink, releasing scents of chocolate and cinnamon.  

“That was fast,”  Vex takes a sip, letting the hot liquid swirl around her mouth.  She takes a careful glance at Percival, measuring the distance between the two of them.  About three feet. “Mm. What’s in this?”

“Irish cream and hot chocolate.”  He takes a sip. “My father kept hot chocolate here for Cassandra and I, then added the liquor for himself and Vesper, when we were too trying.”  

“It’s very good.”  Vex wraps her sweater-pawed hands around the mug, letting the warmth soak through her bones.  

And again, there was the silence.  Vex felt her lip twitch. She wanted to talk about anything, really, but she didn’t know what would give her away.  

She also couldn’t invest anything more into this, not really.  

“Thank you, Katherine.”  He sets down the mug on the edge of the desk,  moving a little closer to her. Two feet now. 

“What for?”  Vex takes a sip, leaning a little closer to him.  

“For what you’ve been doing for Cass.”  He smiles, ducking his head a little, running his hand through still shaggy white hair.  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile like that.”

“Since your father and Vesper…”  Vex trails off, taking a step toward him.  They were face to face now, barely six inches apart.  There were so many details on his face she was only now noticing, like the little scar on his chin and the five o’clock shadow creeping down his neck.  

“I haven’t done right by her, I know.”  He takes a drink, looking to the snowy hills just beyond in the picture window.  “I focused only on myself, which is not something a future king should be doing.”

“You’d lost your family too. I’d say your actions were…”  She trails off before she starts to talk about what she and Vax had done after losing their mother.  There wasn’t a great explanation for how Miss Katherine Travers had gone on a pan-European bender with her twin brother.  

“I wanted to show you this,”  Percy’s eyes scan the desk until he finds the leather-bound notebook he was looking for.  He flips through the pages before landing to one almost directly in the middle. “It’s a poem, written by my father.  Dated before he died, I thought… it’s rather lovely. Perhaps an English tutor would be able to help me puzzle it out.”

Vex leans over his shoulder to read the words.  He clears his voice before he starts to read, low and husky.  

“With winds of frozen winter comes the need to store, 

To hoard more than perhaps is needed,

And do less than what is necessary.  

Inaction leads to improper responsibility, 

Darkness such a secret bears, 

To be shown upon the light of fire.  

And from the seed, an acorn’s gift, Henceforth the truth will flood.”  

“It’s a riddle,”  Vex hums. 

“I think it has something to do with the acorn ornament he had made.”  Percy fiddles with the ribbon bookmark. 

“Well, in my professional English tutor opinion, yes, that deduction seems sound.”  Vex looks up at Percy. 

It’s almost as if they are magnets, designed to pull in closer and closer still, until they find themselves here, mere inches away from each other.  His hand finds hers, brushing against her fingers with grace. She can taste the air leaving his lips, smelling of whiskey. 

Before Vex does anything she regrets, that fucking horse whinnies.     
“I should check the horses.”  Percy doesn’t move. 

“Mmhmm.”   She presses her lips together.  Vex can’t think clear enough to form proper words, not right now anyway.  Percy pulls away from her, slowly. She hears the back door close softly and hears Percy start to mutter to the horses.  

Looking for courage or something, she picks up her mug and drinks deeply, frothing the rich cocoa around her mouth.  Carelessly, some sloshes over the side. 

“Fuck,”  She looks around for something to wipe up the spill, settling on a dishcloth already stained with dark machine oil.  

As she mops the drink up from the floor, her eye catches a glimpse of something bronze on the underside of the desk.  Upon further inspection, it seems like a hidden lever of some sort. Vex pulls it, and a hidden drawer pops open, revealing concealed papers inside a thick cream envelope.  

“What is this,”  She mutters. Only one way to find out, Vex thinks.  In a decisive move, she jams the papers into her little backpack, bending them so that they fit.  

“It’s getting late,”  Percy says from the doorframe.  “Shall we head back?” 

“We probably should.”  Vex finishes her drink.  “Thank you for the drink, and the poem…”

She leaves the almost kiss hanging in the air.  The papers she found, whatever they may be, have reminded her of all she had tried to forget tonight.  She was here to do a story on Crown Prince Percival De Rolo, not to romance him or be a tutor for his sister or the next girl in a bikini behind a picture of him shirtless on some tabloid rag.  And she’d damn well remember it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus the wolves come to a conclusion! The inclusion of wolves as a ridiculous plot in the Christmas Prince is maybe the best scene in a cheesy holiday movie to ever be written. Leave a comment if you agree (or disagree)!   
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr)


	8. Part Eight

Vex was stumped.  Honestly and truly stumped.  Back in her room at the castle, she methodically went through every document and categorized each.   She had two birth certificates, letters from doctors, and, most damning, a set of adoption papers.    
All of which was leading Vex to the conclusion that Percival De Rolo was adopted.  As in, the Crown Prince due to be coronated in the next three days on the grounds of being the oldest male heir was adopted, and therefore not eligible for the throne.  

“Pick up pick up pick up,”  She mutters. Her laptop has been making the completely infuriating Skype ping noise for the past five minutes as she’s dialed Keyleth maybe sixty times.  “Oh thank fuck.”

“Hey!  What’s up with the scoop?”  Keyleth comes into grainy clarity, smiling at Vex.  

“Is that my sister?”  Vax says, offscreen.

“Are you with Vax?” Vex squints, but can’t quite make out where Keyleth is.  “Thought you didn’t like the diner. Not a lot of vegan options.”   
“Don’t you journalist me, Vex’ahlia.”  Keyleth sticks her tongue out at Vex. “Answer my questions first.  How’s the prince? What’s going on with your story?” 

“Ah, some pretty big things, Kiki.”  Vex spends the next few minutes going over all the documents with Keyleth.   “So. What should I do?” 

“How should I know?”  Keyleth shakes her head, red curls swinging madly.  

“Come on, I need to talk it through with someone.”  Vex groans, flinging herself back onto the bed. “Put Vax on, or something.”

“Okay Stubby,”  His face fills the screen.  

“Too close, shitbird.”  She laughs. “I can see your pores, do you ever wash your face, asshole?”

“What choices do you have?  The way I see it, you have three that aren’t completely morally repugnant, four including the one that is.”

“Outline them for me, then, O wise enlightened one.”  

“One. You leave now, publish this.  It’ll certainly please your boss, and jumpstart your career.”

“You’d also get follow up articles, seeing as there would be a scramble for the throne.”  Keyleth chimes in.

“Two.”  Vax continues.  “You tell no-one about the papers, burn them or something.  Your career stays on the same track, but there is no mad scramble for power, so you don’t get caught in a Game of Thrones hell and I’d like to get my sister back without a knife in her back.”

“Whitestone is not Westeros, Vax.”  Vex cocks an eyebrow. 

“Three.”  Vax persists.  “You give the papers to this prince, tell him what you’ve found, then make a choice.”  

“What’s the morally repugnant one?”  Keyleth asks. 

“Blackmail.”  The twins say in unison.  “I’m not doing that one,” Vex adds.  

“That’s all I got, Stubby.”  Vax smiles. “I like door number three, by the way.”

“Yeah, I’ll think on it.”  Vex yawns. “It’s getting late, I should go to bed.”  

“Gotcha.  Goodnight, Vex.”  

 

Vex ends the call and starts to pace around her room.  She wasn’t sure which of Vax’s options she felt best about.  

A knock at the door ends her repetitive thoughts.  She opens it a crack, keeping her body in front of the bed to keep the papers secret a little longer.  

“Hi.”  Percy’s on the other side of her door.  The subject of all the papers in her room.  

“Hi.”  She responds in kind.  “Can I help you?”

“Would you like to go for a walk?”  Eloquent in front of the gentry, he’s not quite so slick with her.  That’s what Vex likes, she thinks. All the rough edges. “It’s a nice night outside when you aren’t face to face with wolves.”   
“I’d think we’ve gotten enough physical exertion for one night,”  Vex can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Please?”  He glances down the hall.  “Just twenty minutes. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”  

“Okay,”  Vex says.  “Night’s still young, I suppose.  Just going to grab my coat.” She closes the door softly, pressing her back to it for a moment.  Vex breathes deeply, calming herself, then proceeds to shove all of her papers into her laptop bag and under her bed.  

 

It was a nice night, and very young in the grand scheme of things.  The sun was setting at four now, making this dark walk in the snow at only about ten.  Lights were strung along the tall walls of the courtyard, softly reflected by the newly fallen snow.  A light dusting was coming down now, covering the shoveled path with enough to make it mildly adventurous.  

“Rather nice, right?”  Percival smiles. 

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Is everything all right?”  He asks. 

So much was not alright.  She had so many secrets with him, they built up like the falling snow.   It had started with the very basics, like who she was, where she was from, what her goddamn name was.  Her name, that had always burdened her, that she’d tried to shed for years, he didn’t know. It felt wrong, deeply so, to not have him know every bit of her, even the darkest parts that only Vax was privy to.  She wanted to open herself to him. 

And now, with the documents, there was so much more to this.  If she told him the truth, where would she stop? 

“I’m fine.”  Another lie. “You often take girls out here for romantic walks in the snow?”

“Not really.”  

“So why me?”

“I want you to come to the ball, tomorrow night.”  He sticks his hands into his pockets. “This seemed like the right place to ask.”

“Again, why me?”  Vex stops walking.  

“I trust you,”  He says, stopped a few feet away from her.  “And I’d feel less nervous if I had you there.”

This fucking man.  She was going to tell him.  Option three, that was it. She needed to tell him everything, from Katherine Travers to the papers she had found.  Vex was going to follow her instinct, goddamnit, and open herself to him like the pages of a book, regardless of how shitty that had gone in the past.  

Again, like magnets, she found herself pulling closer and closer to him.  

“Percival, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Without her saying a word, he leans in, his lips on hers.  Gently, barely kissing her, he kisses her. It most certainly was not what she was expecting, not something fantastical or magical. 

Percy pulls away.  “What was it you needed to tell me?”  

Vex pulls him in, kissing him deeper now, her hand on the lapel of his jacket.   It wasn’t the end-of-movie kiss, or the romance-cover steamy kiss. It was better because it was real, and like Percy himself, was perfect in all its imperfectness.

  
  


Sylas Briarwood was no lockpicking pickpocketing rogue.  Fortunately for him, his companion Lady Delilah most certainly was.  She was in the process of jamming a pearl-decorated bobby pin into the lock Katherine Travers’ door.  With a click, the door pops open, and Delilah returns the pin to her hair. 

“I don’t understand, what are we looking for?”  He asks as she begins to rummage.    
“Something, anything.”  She scans the room. “I don’t trust this Katherine.  She’s got some secret. Here, check this.” 

Delilah hands him a leather laptop bag.  Sylas sets it down on the desk and flips through the papers.  

“Passport,”  She mutters. “With a different name, Sylas.  Do you know a… Vex’ahlia Vessar?” 

“Vessar,”  He thinks. “The last name sounds familiar.”  

Sylas finds his way to the bottom of the papers and feels a sly grin begin to overtake his face.  

“Well, well, well.”  He turns over the adoption papers and shows them to Delilah.  “Looks like Christmas came early just for me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that's a good place to leave the story for tonight! Thanks for reading, and sorry for the late update. If you liked this chapter, be sure to hit that kudos button or even leave a comment– I'm so grateful to everyone who leaves me one!   
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr)


	9. Part Nine

“Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Cassandra, to Miss Katherine Travers.”  Mr. Tate announces at the door to Vex’s room. 

  
“Really, Tate, you don’t have to do this every time I go to see my tutor,”  Cass grumbles. “Kat?” 

“Cassandra!”  Vex gives her a hug.  “What are you doing here, I thought we didn’t have lessons today?”

“We don’t.”  Cass smiles mischievously.  At this point, Vex doubts Cassandra is capable of giving a smile that doesn’t give off the feeling that some dubious plan isn’t about to happen.  “But we still have business. That will be all, Mr. Tate. Thank you.” 

“Should I be worried?”

“What are you wearing to the ball tonight.”  It’s not a question, but a demand. 

“I’m rather limited.”  Vex pulls the last dress from her closet, a little black shift dress.  “I wore my nice options to the cocktail parties, and I have a feeling repeats aren’t welcome at this sort of event.”  

  
“I figured as much.”  Cassandra gives her a once-over. “We have seven hours, ladies.  Make her a princess.” 

A team of women rolling a rack of dresses enter the room and immediately begin to work on Vex, brushing at her hair and taking a look at her raggedy nails, bitten to the quick from nerves.  

“Ah, Cassandra, may I enquire what the fuck?”

“My brother is sweet on you, it’s not hard to tell.”  Cassandra runs her hands over the dresses on the rack.  “I care deeply for him, and fortunately for you, I like you.  So I won’t let you make a fool of yourself tonight. I like this one.”  She sets aside a dress, then begins to wheel out of the room. “See you tonight, Katherine.”

 

Vex had thought seven hours would be more than enough time to get her ready for a ball.  The one formal she went to with Vax at boarding school took her an hour to get ready for, and the Cotillion event she had under her father’s supervision was even less, thanks to the preselected wardrobe.  Maybe it was longer, but Vax gave her a flask of whiskey, which made the time go very fast. 

Having completed a movie-makeover that did take every second of the seven hours they had completely sober, she wandered the halls for a few moments, listening for the music.  At the bottom of a flight of stairs, she saw him- Percy, in a high-collared deep navy blue jacket with shining gold-braided epaulets. 

He looked up the red-carpeted stairs at her, smiling goofily as he catches a glimpse of her.     
Vex’s hair, elegantly partly braided at the crown of her head and curled away from her face, falls down her back.  She almost never wore it loose but had convinced the stylist to let her keep her feather hair clip from Vax, holding the hair at the back of her head together.  The dress Cassandra picked out was indeed stunning, a deep blue dress that hugged her torso and flared out madly at her hips. She hadn’t thought about how heavy ball gowns were in a long time, and this one was heavier than most, made of thick silky satin and a thousand tulle petticoats.  

It also showed a good deal more cleavage than she normally did, almost causing the thin silver necklace she was wearing to fall between her propped up breasts.  She felt fancy, and more than a little lovely. 

She lifts her skirts, as she’s been instructed to do, and begins to walk down the stairs, flashing her bright-red converse to Percy.  Despite her father's best attempts, she never really liked heels.  He laughs, and even though he’s smiling she can tell he’s worried. Despite his worries, Percy’s a natural in front of the press. 

He takes her hand at the bottom of the stairs.  Cameras flash around the two of them, leaving a few white spots in her eyes.  

“You look lovely, Katherine.”  

“And yourself.”  Vex winks. “Ready for tonight?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be,”  He exhales, anxious. “May I have this dance?”

“In front of everyone?”  She says, softly. 

“Why not?”  Percy walks her over to the dance floor, holding her gloved hand aloft.  The music swells as the song changes from a slow dance to a faster tempo waltz.  “Can you dance?”

“Can I dance.”  Vex laughs. Percy starts to lead, and Vex follows, keeping pace with him easily.  She ducks under his arm and executes a perfect double spin, skirts flaring out wonderfully.  

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you, Miss Travers?”  

“I suppose I am, your Highness.”   _ More than you would know. _

The song comes to a stop, Vex’s skirt continues to swirl around her, partially wrapping around Percy’s leg.  He lifts her hand again, pressing her fingers to his lips. 

“Thank you,”  Percy smiles. “I guess, it’s time for me to go become king.” 

“Go get coronated.”  Vex blushes a little.  “I’ll be here when you’re ready for me again.”  

Percy walks off the dance floor.  Vex moves to the side, taking a flute of champagne.  

Despite the happy nature of the event, Vex couldn’t help but feel more than a little sad.  The press at the event reminded her of everything she’d been repressing for the past few days.  She could flirt with a prince as much as she wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t know her, and wouldn’t like her if he did.  Vex really hopes that the press wouldn’t check her identity, but because of that dance with Percy, they probably would. Which means Percy would know her and would know the ugliest parts of her.  

There was no future with him, so why did she feel like this?

  
And then there was the matter of the documents.  She still hadn’t shown them to Percy, had hardly looked at them again since that night he kissed her.  Even though she had loved the moments she spent with him, Vex wished none of this had happened. At this point, there was no way she could remove herself from his life without hurting him greatly.  And Vex was so tired of leaving people and places this way, with burned bridges and broken hearts in her wake. 

“Now announcing,”  A voice calls the room to attention, “His Royal Highness Crown Prince Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo the Third of Whitestone.” 

Slowly, Percy emerges before the crowd, flanked by the Prime Minister holding the crown that had been his father’s.   Cassandra, in green, sits to his left, smiling as she watches the undertaking. Percy takes a knee, and the Prime Minister begins the proceedings. 

“Do you swear fealty to Whitestone, to protect her, honor her, serve her, and celebrate her always?”  

Percy looks to Vex.  She waves, just a little, trying to see a crack in the stone solid face of his.  

“I do.” 

“Do you accept the responsibility and civic duties of the throne of Whitestone?”  

“I do.”

His eye contact, even amidst flashes from cameras, remains constant on Vex.  

“If anyone should protest this action, speak now or forever…”

“I object!”  The crowd gasps, turning to the voice.  Lord Sylas, in the center of the room, strolls forward casually, as if he hasn’t just challenged for the throne.  He grins.

“On what grounds?”  The Prime Minister, still holding the crown, is unsure of what to do really.  

“On the grounds of illegitimacy.”  Sylas begins to unfold a sheet of paper from his pocket, almost torturing the awaiting crowd with the slowness he uses to unfurl the paper .

Vex’s heart begins to beat fast. How could Sylas know what she knew?  Was this a less well kept secret than she thought? Whoever else knew, Percy most certainly didn’t know. His face was crestfallen, his eyes no longer trained on Vex but now to Sylas. “I have the paperwork here, everything you need to prove that Percival De Rolo is not a blood heir of our late King, may he rest in peace.”   
The paper is handed to the Prime Minister.  The room; press, gentry, Percy and Vex alike wait with bated breath.  

“Where did you recover this from?”  He examines the document. 

“From the personal notes of a journalist, Vex’ahlia Vessar,”  Vex’s heart drops as Delilah chimes in, looking a cat quite satisfied with eating a canary. Cassandra looks to Vex, making a quick ‘get out’ motion with her hand, widening her eyes. “Who infiltrated the royal family under the guise of Katherine Travers, a tutor from Minnesota.”  

Percy is looking at Vex once again, this time the slowly burning fury, the sadness in his eyes boring into her.  

Vex closes her eyes.  This is the last thing she wanted, fuck, fuck.  FUCK. 

“This appears to be genuine.”   

Vex starts to push her way through the crowd, lifting her hand to cover her face from the press.  She can’t hear anything of what’s going on onstage. 

This was all her fault, wasn’t it?  That’s how all of these turn out, with Vex running and leaving someone with their future ruined. 

She did it to those boys Vax fell in with when she called the cops on them that night Vax ditched them early.  

She’d done it to Vax when he took the blame for their multi-country European bender, the one that sent the two of them to the States for college.  

She did it to Keyleth when she convinced her to stay at the shitty copy editing job and not take the high intrigue journalism job that would have jump-started her career.  

And now she’d done it to Percy.  If it wasn’t for her meddling, nobody would have ever found out.  She should have burned those papers when she had the chance she should have–

“Stop, please.”  Percy takes a hold of her hand.  

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave, I didn’t–”  She tries to say something, anything to soften the blow and make up for what she’s done.  

“Was any of it,”  Percy pauses. He clears his throat.  “Was any of it real, to you? Katherine, or Vex’ahlia.  Was it real to you like it was to me?”

Vex, a writer.  Her words shouldn’t fail her, but they do.  She doesn’t say anything to the boy whose heart she’s broken, nothing to the King she has unseated.  Vex just runs. 

“Vex’ahlia!”  He shouts after her.  He does not follow her.  Vex understands why. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hums* I could have danced all nighttttttt~  
> And now our story comes to a climax, or does it? Stay tuned, and thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting thus far! 
> 
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr)


	10. Part Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get out of the publishing a chapter at 11 rhythms, shall we? That seems solid. Here's part ten!

Percy wasn’t sure what to do.  In his defense, he didn’t think most people found out they were not, in fact, legitimate minutes before they inherited their father’s kingdom.  He had little things he needed to do, pack his things and find another place for him and Cassandra to live. Sylas would be taking the castle, and the staff, and the kingdom.  He had a degree in Economics and was mostly reasonable if not just power hungry. 

Whitestone would be fine, he hopes.  

Mostly, he was angry at himself, for how he felt when the burden of leadership lift from his shoulders.  And he was angry about Katherine, or Vex’ahlia, how deeply he had fallen for a girl merely using him for what, a leg up in her career?  

“Percy.”  Cassandra managed to sneak up on him, not an easy feat.  

“Cassandra.”  

“Did you read through the letters?”  She pulls over to the side of his desk, plunking some of the papers down.  

“No, not yet Cass.”  

“You should.”  She pouts. 

“Why should I?”  He snaps. “It’s not going to tell me anything I haven’t already thought of.”

“Pompous little shit…”  Cass mutters. “Well. I’m legitimate, you’re not, so ha.  Second, that means I outrank you, so listen to me.”

“I’m still older.”  Percy flicks her on the temple.  

“Mmhm.  Yeah.” She folds her arms.  “Vex left this morning. How do you feel about that.” 

“I’d rather not say.”

“Okay.”  Cass starts to wheel away.  “We’re going to be okay, you know that, right?”  

“Yes, Cass.”  The words feel like a lie on his tongue.  “It’ll be okay.”

 

“And now you sign here, Lady Delilah,”  The lawyer Sylas hired worked quickly. Delilah, in a white pantsuit and pearls, signs promptly.  “With that, you are married. Congratulations, Lord and Lady Briarwood.”

“Can we get on with this?”  Sylas taps his foot impatiently.  “The period of grace ends in about three hours.  Gather the council, Prime Minister. Today is my coronation day.”  

 

“Vax?” Vex knew it was late for him, but she couldn’t shake the pit in her stomach. “I know it’s like four in the morning where you are but I didn’t know what else to do, other than call you—“

“I’m here, Stubby.” He sounds tired. 

“I thought you should know I booked my flight.”  Vex squirms at her seat. 

“Already?”  Vex hears the squeak of Vax’s bed, presumably as he gets up.  

“Well, they figured me out, and I couldn’t keep the documents secret, and now everyone hates me.”   The words spill out of Vex like she wishes they would from her pen, she’d tried to write something this morning in the airport but to no avail.  “So I’ll be home tonight, I hope. Flying through Paris, but I figure if I don’t leave the airport I won’t get arrested or anything.”

“Woah Woah, take a breath Vex!”  Her brother says, in a soothing low voice.  “Not everyone hates you, that’s not possible.”  

“Vax?”  Vex hears another voice on the line.  “What’s going on? Is that Vex?”

“Brother,”  Vex pauses for a moment, trying to recognize the voice.  “Did I… is that Keyleth?”

There is dead silence on the line for a few moments.  

“Vax.”  

“Hi, Vex,”  The voice, most certainly the voice that had kept college Vex up until three in the morning with stoned surprise and half-baked philosophy, chimes in.  

“Brother.”

Yes,”  Vax speaks.  

“Explain, shitbird.”  

“You’re an adult, do I need to?”  

Vex makes a vomiting sound.  It was a choice not made intentionally made by her brain, but one that came from deep, deep within her soul, emanating from the back her throat.  

“Vex,”  Vax chuckles, just a bit.  “It’s nothing serious yet, I’d have told you if it was.”

“Okay.”  Vex pauses.  “Just… Are you happy?  Does dating my best friend and my college roommate make you happy?”

“Yes.”  He hardly has to pause.  “She makes me happy, Vex.”

“CUTE!”  Keyleth shouts.  Vex had almost forgotten Keyleth was in the same room with Vax.  

“Guess the truth is coming out for both of us.”  He laughs. 

“More like a flood.”  Vex plays with the edge of her braid.  “Like a flood… where did I hear that before?”

“I haven’t.  Maybe something you heard recently?  Read?”

“It’s a poem.”  Vex starts to flip through her bag, digging for her notebook.  “The late King wrote it, Percy showed it to me a few days ago.”  

“Percy?”

“Shut up.”  Vex opens her spiral notebook triumphantly.  “Here it is:

With winds of frozen winter comes the need to store, 

To hoard more than perhaps is needed,

And do less than what is necessary.  

Inaction leads to improper responsibility, 

Darkness such a secret bears, 

To be shown upon the light of fire.  

And from the seed, an acorn’s gift, Henceforth the truth will flood.”  

“Well, that’s a poem.”  Vax proclaims. 

“There’s something about it that I’ve been working on, something about it that I haven’t quite figured out.”  Vex hums. 

“The fucking acorn…” 

“How did I not see that?”  She snaps her notebook closed, jamming it into her yellow hiking backpack, and slinging it over her shoulder.  “Vax, I’m going to miss my flight.”

“Why?”  He asks, “What?”

“I have to finish what I started.” Vex starts to power walk away from the gate and towards the exit.  “And I figured out what we missed, so I actually can fix it now. I just wish I realized it earlier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell, here is more setup for a second fic? Maybe a complete rewrite of the second movie, which was utter garbage okay??? Comment below if you'd read a second version, and thanks for reading, liking, and commenting so far! Only two more parts to go! Happy New Year, and may your 2019 bring nothing but wonderful things to your life.   
> XOXO,   
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr


	11. Part Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming to the conclusion now! AHHH! (To be honest, I'm super proud of myself for updating this regularly. Like, really proud, I didn't think I'd be able to do it!)

She was at the castle again, silently hoping for any higher power to help her.  Again, Vex had made it inside, but this time it was proving harder to see anyone she needed to see.  

“I just need to see Madame Yor,”  Vex asks the guard, currently blocking her from entering.  “Please, there’s something very important I need to speak to her about!”

“Miss Vessar.”  Madame Yor descends the stairs.  

“Thank fuck,”  Vex mutters. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“I know, I know.”  Vex swallows. “But I think I might have a way to solve all of this, keep the De Rolos as the true ruling family of Whitestone.”   
“We’re running out of time.”  Madame Yor pauses. “Come along, then.  How do you plan to fix this?” 

“The acorn ornament,”  Vex keeps pace with Madame Yor, surprisingly faster than she is.  Slightly out of breath from the run to the taxi, then the taxi to the palace, and sprinting through twenty different rooms all full of beautiful things half in boxes, Vex continues.  “I think there’s something inside it.”

“Why would it be there, of all places?”  

“I saw a poem that the late king wrote.”  Vex spots the tree and makes a beeline for it.  “It mentioned an acorn, specifically, as well as secrets being revealed.”

“Here.”  Madame Yor hands her the ornament.  Vex runs it over in her hands, feeling for a seam or hidden latch maybe.  

“In case I’m wrong.”  Vex thinks, pondering the ramifications.  “I’m sorry, for everything.” 

Vex rips the top off of the acorn with little effort.  Her heart pounding, hoping that she’s right for once, she peers inside the ornament.  

“There’s a paper!”  Vex yanks it free. “Hopefully, this will help.  Hopefully.” 

 

Sylas, the future king.  He rolled around his title in his mind, playing with all wonderful ideas.  Delilah had transferred her amorous designs from Percival to him with the passing of the crown, truly insatiable in the hunt for power.  She’d make a fair queen, beautiful and clever all at once. How wonderful indeed that she was his wife. 

The parliament room is slowly filling, as apprehensive lords file into their respective seats to watch their new king, ( _ not Percival, ME _ , Sylas thinks again, triumphantly) be crowned. 

“Is that enough?”  He asks the Prime Minister.  

“It is not all of them.”  

“Yes, but we don’t need all of them.”  Sylas snaps, “Just two thirds to oversee, and that’s largely a formality.”

“We have enough.”  

“Then get on with it.”  Sylas kneels on a pillow, protecting his knees from the hardwood flooring.  He throws his new bride a flirtatious wink. 

Another few nobles enter, watching.  Princess Cassandra, how lovely. And the former prince!  Come to watch as he loses his power, once and for all! 

It was really shaping up to be a perfect day.  

“Do you swear fealty to Whitestone, to protect her, honor her, serve her, and celebrate her always?”  

Sylas looks to the crown.    
“I do.” 

“Do you accept the responsibility and civic duties of the throne of Whitestone?”  

“I do.”

The Prime Minister pauses,  hoping for some divine intervention.  

“Continue,”  Sylas growls softly.  

“If anyone should protest this action…”

“We do!”  A voice, calling from the upper levels of parliament.  

“On what grounds?”  Sylas shouts. 

“On the grounds of a changed line of succession.”  That pesky journalist, Vix or Vox or whatever, begins to run down the stairs of parliament, holding a sheet of parchment aloft.  “As we all know, there was a span of ten years between the late Princess Vesper and Prince Percival. During those ten years, the late King began to draft an amendment to the constitution that would allow a woman to rule, in case a male heir did not appear.  It is this document, Lords, and Ladies of Parliament, that I hold in my hand.” 

“But that’s about women ruling,”  Sylas scoffs, “It has no place here!”  

Cassandra coughs, rather demurely.

“And how do we know that Princess Cassandra is also not illegitimate?” Delilah glares.    

“After the former Crown Prince Percival was deemed illegitimate, I sent out the Princess’ genetic material to a private lab for confirmation.”  Madame Yor produces more documentation for inspection. “Princess Cassandra is legitimate.” 

“May I?”  Vex hands the document to the Prime Minister, gladly.  

After a few moments of stunned silence, where she can hear Sylas fuming, still kneeling, the Prime Minister looks up at the gathered nobles again.  

“This has been sealed and written in the King’s hand, dated over one year ago.  It is missing approval from parliament, however.”

“Then it’s useless!”  Sylas laughs. “Nice try.”  

“Not quite, highness.  Any sealed document that proposes new laws must be voted upon, with a two-thirds majority.  Therefore, we must vote.” 

Vex waits with bated breath as the nobility discuss.  She saw Cassandra, hands clasped on her lap, twisting slightly with anticipation.  Percy’s hand rested on her shoulder, giving her a small half-hug. Vex turns away, not wanting to get caught looking at the Prince.  In her mind, he would always be the Prince. 

The council came to a vote.  Vex counts the hands as they go up.  

 

Every hand, yes, every hand in the room was raised in yes.  Vex feels the pit in her stomach leave its residency in her stomach in a big exhale.  

 

“The ‘I’s have the vote, this bill has passed.”  The Prime Minister declares. “Princess Cassandra-”

“She’s still a child!”  Sylas has come up with another argument, it seems.  

“Not for much longer,”  Percy speaks now, his voice filling the room.  “As the next in line, she is eligible for the throne regardless of age and may appoint a temporary ruler for however long until she takes the throne.   Prime Minister, if you would?”

“That is indeed correct.  Princess Cassandra, do you take upon you the responsibility of custodian and Queen to Whitestone?”

“I do.”  Her voice doesn’t waver.  Her cheeks shine with sweat or tears, Vex can't tell.  “And I nominate Lord Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo the Third, former Crown Prince of Whitestone, to rule until the day that I and my parliament see me fit to rule.”

“Cass–”  Percy whispers.  

“You’re going to be a great King, Percy.”  She smiles. “I always thought so. Shame I’m going to kick you out after a few years in the big chair.”

“Years?”  

“Always thought going to college would be cool.  And very useful, considering.” 

“Then let us begin this once more.”  The Prime Minister discreetly pushes Sylas off the pillow.  “Lord De Rolo, if you would.”

 

As the proceedings begin, Vex slips away.  She’s not needed there, not anymore, and she’s got a plane to catch and a brother and two best friends and a job to get back to in New York.  It was not her place, never was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still more to resolve- Tomorrow, with Part Twelve! Thanks for sticking around this long, liking, and commenting!  
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr)


	12. Part Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And at long last, we come to the conclusion of our tale.

“Vessar.”  She winces slightly as she hears the thud of her article hit Bexley’s desk.  “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s my article.”  Really, why was she afraid of Bexley?  She was nowhere near as terrifying as Madame Yor or the Briarwoods.  Rather tame, in comparison. 

“It’s shit,”  Bexley shakes her head, “All fluff, no meat.  And what kills me, what really makes me question your talents as a journalist, is that you HAD THE FUCKING PAPERS IN YOUR HANDS!”  

The office slows to a silent halt as they watch their boss through the not soundproof glass walls of Bexley’s office.  

“If you honestly thought that I made the wrong choice with those documents,”  Vex remains cool, level-headed. Even as she does something she is almost sure she’ll regret.  “Then I understand what I need to do. I quit.”    
Vex yanks her staff ID card off her neck, slapping it onto the desk and taking back her article.  Without another word, she walks out of Bexley’s office, feeling both lighter and completely unsure of what she’s going to do next.     
“Damn Vex.”  Keyleth gives her a hug.  Keyleth gives the best hugs, all warm and smelling of whatever herbs she was drying.  Lemongrass. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m not sure.”  Vex starts to pack her desk.  “Maybe start my own website, put up the piece Bexley hated so much?  Just to spite her, really. Do what I should have done earlier, find an actual journalist job.  I am sorry though, Keyleth, honestly.”

“For what?”

“For convincing you to not take that job, the one that would have had you traveling all over the world.”  Vex bites her lip. “It was a big deal for you, and I kept you here because I was so afraid to do anything without you.  I didn’t want to lose you, Kiki.”   
“And you don’t think that us working at different places will end our friendship now?”  Keyleth laughs. “You’re gonna have to try a LOT harder to get rid of me, bestie.”

“Well, you’re dating my brother.”  Vex smiles. “For better or for worse, you’re stuck with me too.”  

“I love you,”  Keyleth gives her another hug.  “And I’ll be dropping by later tonight with some new goodies.”

“Please be mead.”  Vex whispers.

“It’s mead,”  Keyleth whispers back.  

“Oh thank fuck, I’m trying to make a cool exit and I need promises of so much booze to make it through.  Love you too. One last stop, then I’m gone.” 

Vex takes her box of things through the copyedit pit, and into the writer’s lounge.  She makes a beeline for one desk- Kenneth Powell. 

“HEY KENNETH,”  She shouts. Ah, finally.  The chance to chew out What’s His Dick.  “YOUR WRITING IS SHIT, GOOD LUCK FINDING SOMEONE TO FIX IT FOR YOU.  FUCK YOU.” 

Vex flips him the double bird, then swirls her coat around her, letting her hips swish as she walks to the elevator.  

  
  


“Damn Vex,”  Gilmore, voice smooth and sweet, laughs.  “Sucks that your boss makes you work weekends.  And on New Year's too!” 

“For the record,”  Vax shouts from over the counter, “I’m not her boss.  I even offered to change the name of the diner. The Twins Cafe has a ring to it, more than the Raven and the Rose, though that’s a close second.”  

“Both of those sound like pubs, not diners.”  Keyleth chimes in.    
“And there will be no name changes,”  Vex takes a seat with Keyleth and Gilmore, wiping her hands on her black apron.  She’d started picking up waitressing shifts while she sends her resume around to different newspapers.  It was far from being partners with her brother. “Nothing wrong with the Starlight Diner.”

“Booo.”  Vax slaps down his rag and joins the three of them.  Eleven fifty at night and the diner was still open for the occasional customer, but mostly for Vex and Vax.  

A chime from Gilmore’s phone prompts his departure.  “Gotta go, darlings. That’s my date.” 

“Happy New Year, Shawn.”  Vax winks, tucking a pencil into his man bun.  “Now who wants champagne?”

“I’ll take some.”  Vex checks her own phone, not sure who would be texting her anyway.  

“I’ll help,” Keyleth takes his arm and the two of them go to find sparkly booze.  

 

She really was happy for the two of them, having found another weirdo to spend their lives with.  But fuck, she was lonely, with a career going nowhere yet and a brother with his life lined up. 

Vex is pulled from her thoughts as something hits the window outside with a loud THUNK.   Snow is splattered across the window, probably from some bored kids. Vex sticks her head outside to the snowing New York winter, wrapping her cardigan close to her.  

“Hey, you can’t do… that…”  Vex stops as she sees the culprit standing before her, round glasses atop a red-tinged nose, white hair tucked into a black ski cap.  

“Hey.”

It was like that moment when she saw him for the first time, not with the cab but at the palace.  She’d felt a zap of something as they met, Vex felt it again now. 

“I thought… I thought you were ruling a country, or something.”  she stammers, fiddling with her braid. 

“Surprisingly, city-states can function without a largely ceremonial king for a few days.”  Percy chuckles, wiping his hands on his jeans. “And I had to find you, after everything that happened.  The least I owe you is a thank you.” 

“No, I just fixed my own mistakes,”  Vex shakes her head. “All this would have happened without me.”   
“But I am no longer living a lie.  And in a few years, Cassandra gets to be queen, all on her own.”  He smiles, moving a little closer to her. “All thanks to you, Vex.”

Oh.

Hearing him say her name, HER NAME, it changes things, doesn’t it? 

“I always thought Katherine was too clumsy of a name for you.”  

She laughs, awkwardly.  The way he looked at her, had he always done that?  Did she miss the way his eyes were fixed on her up till this point?     
“So.  Thank you, for coming all this way.”

“I have something else to ask you,”  He pauses. “A proposal, if you will.”  

“Percy.”  She whispers.  

“Vex’ahlia, I have never met another girl like you.  I don’t think I ever will.” He takes her hand, warming it with his gloves.  “So I want to hold onto you, and I want to continue to know and get to know you until the day I die.”

“Percy, there are things, things you don’t want to know about me.”   Vex swallows hard. “Things that others have run from, and with good reason.  You can’t… You shouldn’t be with someone like me.”

“So have I, Vex.  So have I. There are things that I have done that will always be terrible, always.”  He drops to one knee, kissing her hand lightly. “I suppose what I’m trying to ask, is if you feel what I felt those nights, that there was a part of you that fits with the part of me,”

There’s something about the flustered way he speaks, with too many words too quickly, rushed and stuttering that’s so far from the smooth elegance he presents to parliament and press...

Vex leans down, kissing him.  Lightly at first, then harder, biting ever so slightly on his bottom lip.  

Again, it was wild and warm and real.  It wasn’t like people said soulmates were, with your mate being the missing half of you, more like they were two complete people made more complete with each other.  

“Yes.”  She whispers, kneeling in the snow, looking into his eyes.  “A part of me fits with a part of you, Percy.”

“So,”

“Give me the ring, darling.”  She gives him her hand. “I’m saying yes.”  

It’s freezing as the clock strikes twelve, and music starts to play.  Someone somewhere bangs pots together. Vex doesn’t care as the snow soaks the knees of her jeans, and as the wind rips through her cardigan.  He kisses her again, his hand supporting the back of her head. Her hands rest on his chest, and she pulls in closer, letting the magnetic connection between them lead the way.    

There were unfinished things here, secrets between the two that needed to be spoken.  There were a multitude of conversations about duty and responsibility to be had, ones on family and future and work.  Whatever that meant, Vex was in, to be with this dork til death does them part. 

 

“Vex, we found champagne!”  Keyleth bounds into the main diner, finding it… empty?  

“Hey Vax,”  She smiles. “Remember how you were worried?”

“Yes?”  He puts down the bottle.  

“I don’t think you should fret so much.”  Keyleth points out the window. “Vex is going to be just fine.”  

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End, for now at least. Thank you all so much for reading, liking, commenting, and sticking around for this! I might not be updating every day from now on, but I will be participating in Critical Role Femslash Week (Expect some Campaign 2 Fics!) starting January 16, and Mistletoe and Whitestone 2 is in the works! Once again, thank you so much. 
> 
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr)

**Author's Note:**

> So this was going to be a thing I was calling the Twelve Days of Ficmas and I was going to post one part a day leading up to December 25. I completely underestimated my finals workload and the amount of travel I needed to do (hello, hellish 9-hour layover with no hotel subsidized in a completely different country.) I also thought "Hey the 25th is bullshit so I can do this whenever." The Twelve Days of Ficmas start today, and this fic will update every day for the next twelve days. Enjoy the Perc'ahlia fluff so good and sweet it will rot out your teeth.


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